


Don't go

by mlein80



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Goodbye Sex, Goodbyes, Human Enzo, Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:44:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5602129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlein80/pseuds/mlein80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enzo has to leave for WWII, and you beg him not to go. He knows he has to, so he proves how much he loves you before he leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't go

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before we found out when and how Enzo was turned. He is still human when he leaves for the war.

“Don’t go…Why don’t you just stay here, with me, instead of going off to who knows where?” You almost begged him, as you had done so many times over the past weeks.

He didn’t look at you, didn’t want to look at you, and just went on packing his bag.

You walked over to him, giving him the last things he had asked you for and handed them to him. You put your hands on his shoulders. “I’m so scared…”

That got a reaction out of him. He stopped packing for one moment, put his hand on yours, and squeezed it lightly. “You know I have to go. I have to…” 

“But what if I will never see you again? What if you will never come back?” The thought hadn't been able to leave your head, ever since he had told you he was leaving for war.

He strapped the last flap on his bag, putting it aside. Ready to go off to the front tomorrow, ready to provide him with everything he will need.

But all you could see is the image you saw in the paper yesterday. Exactly the same bag, shredded to pieces by a bomb. You didn’t need a lot of imagination to think what happened to the owner of that bag. And now Enzo, your own Enzo was packing exactly the same bag. Probably putting in the same things the unknown soldier had packed as well. Probably saying the same things he had said to his wife.

He stood up, turned to you. His thumbs brushed your face, wiping away a tear that trickled over your cheek, a tear you hadn’t felt coming. “I will return darling. I have someone to return to.” He took your head between his hands and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “I would never leave you alone, you should know that.”

You took a step back, not wanting his promises, but wanting him, here in your house, in your arms, safe… Not just now, but tomorrow and the day after that as well. “I know that. But the Germans? Or the Italians? Or whoever you have to fight? Do they know? Do they even care when killing you means they can return to the ones they had to leave behind?”

He walked away and sat down at the table in the middle of the kitchen. “I can’t make promises for them, but I will do everything I can to return. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to get shot, but I have to leave. I have to fight for what I think is right, and I can’t stay here, let everyone else to the dangerous work and only express with words what I feel. I have to do something.”

You looked at him when he outstretched his arms towards you, begging you with his look to come to him. You took his hand, and he pulled you towards him, making sure you were sitting on his lap, closing his arms around you. A gesture that had always made you feel safe, but that made you realize now everything you had to lose. A gesture that made you realize you wouldn’t feel his arms around you tomorrow, or the day after that. Maybe never again. “I know why you have to go. I just… everything inside of me screams to keep you here, to make sure you are safe.” You rested your head against his, and heard him whisper in your ear. 

“I don’t want to leave you, darling. If I would do exactly what my feelings tell me, I’d throw out that bag and stay. But I can’t. It’s impossible. It’s too late for that…” You both were looking at the bag in the corner of the kitchen, the bag that made clear it wasn’t just a nightmare that would pass, but that he really would be leaving tomorrow. 

“Don’t look at it…”. He tried to turn your head away from it.

You didn't let him. “It’s forcing me to, I just can’t look away…” 

This wasn't how he could say goodbye to you. He need to do it differently. “Let tonight just be the two of us. No bags, no army, nothing else…”

“Act like it’s the last night of the world?”, you asked. It would be, in some aspects.

He nodded. “Act like it’s our last night on this world…” He put his finger on your chin, forcing you to look away from the bag in the corner, forcing you to look at him instead, and he pressed a kiss on your mouth. Then he stood up, scooping you in his arms while he did that.

You put your arms around his neck, making it easier for him to carry you up the stairs, putting you down on the bed you both had shared for such a long time. The bed where you would sleep alone, starting tomorrow.

He kissed your forehead again, pressed a kiss on the point of your nose before kissing your mouth again.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, and felt tears coming out of your eyes, tears he kissed away one by one. 

“Don’t cry, my love. Send me off with memories of your smiling face. Let me remember you like that when I’m at the other side of the sea…”

You swallowed away your tears, forcing yourself to smile. You wanted him to remember you like that, you didn’t want your tears to be the last thing he saw. You had time for tears when he was gone. Now you had to enjoy the fact that he was still here, that he was still yours, that you could still feel his lips on your face, in your neck, that you could still feel his hands on your body.

Now he didn’t have to kiss away your tears anymore, his mouth started to kiss your neck, to kiss all the places he always kissed. He did it slowly, deliberately, like he wanted to take in the memory, like he wanted to be able to remember how you tasted. His hands slowly unbuttoned your dress, caressing the skin that became bare. Touching your stomach, and when he pulled out your dress, undid your bra and pulled it off as well, touching your breasts, brushing over the nipples. Doing it over and over again, as if his hands wanted to remember how you felt, as if he could take the memories of you with him by touching you one more time.

You started to do the same. You slipped your hands under his shirt, feeling his muscles, feeling the familiar little scars he had, taking them in, making sure you weren’t going to forget them. You unbuttoned his shirt, taking it off, looking at him one moment before caressing his back, sliding your hands down to his pants, unbuttoning them as well.

He let go of you for one moment to take them off, to take off his underwear, taking off your stockings and underwear in almost the same movement.

You felt his body against yours, and you tried to take in every curve, appreciating how good you two fitted together. You felt his hardened member close to your entrance, and you felt him entering you, while the both of you didn’t stop caressing each other. Making memories for the time you would have to spend alone, making love, making sure you both knew how much you cared about the other. Making sure he would never forget you were the one for him, making sure he knew why he had to return. Making sure you knew he would return to you, making sure you knew who you were waiting for.

He started moving, thrusting, slowly and caring, and you moved your hips along with him. This last time tonight, this had to be perfect. This last time, it had to be clear you two were made for each other. This last time, it became clear why this was called “making love”.

Your tears were forgotten, all you could think about was him. 

The bag was forgotten, all he could think about was you.

The war didn’t exist, only the small room, the bed, the two of you counted. When you both reached your climax together, you clung to the other, not ready to let him go, not ready to let you go. When you were lying next to each other, panting, sweating, brushing your hand through his hair, him tracing his finger along the scar you had on your chin, looking each other in the eye, the rest of the world slowly came back in. From outside, the sound of cars slowly started to get louder, the sounds that would take him away from you.

He got out of bed, seeing the first light peek through the curtains, knowing his time had come. He dressed, put on his uniform, and suddenly your Enzo was gone, the soldier Enzo reappeared. He looked good, he looked gorgeous, but he wasn’t your Enzo anymore.

You slipped into a bath robe, not wanting to taint the memories in this room with the goodbyes that had to be said.

Down in the kitchen he was standing, waiting for you. The bag hoisted up on his back, the bag that would take him away, maybe never bring him back. “This is it, gorgeous…Look out for me, because I will be back…” He hugged you, pressed a kiss on your forehead, and you swallowed back your tears again, wanting to give him the memory of your smile as his last image of you. 

“I will look out for you, Enzo. Be safe… come back to me…” One last hug, one last kiss, and he was out of the door. You looked at him, until he became only a silhouette, until even that silhouette disappeared, and you knew you would stay here until that same silhouette reappeared again, until he would return to you. When you touched your cheeks they were wet with the tears you couldn’t hold back anymore.


End file.
